Stay with Me
by LOTSlover
Summary: Set at the end of 1x10, Kurt saves Jane, but will he want to stay once he finds out what Jane did?


**TITLE** **:** Stay with Me

 **AUTHOR** **:** LOTSlover

 **CHARACTERS** **:** Kurt Weller / Jane Doe (Taylor Shaw)

 **RATING** **:** T

 **WARNINGS** **:** Author Chooses Not to Use Warnings

 **DISCLAIMER** **:** I do not own Blindspot or the characters. Just madly in love with this shower.

 **SUMMARY** **:** Set at the end of 1x10, Kurt saves Jane, but can he save her mind too?

 **A/N: Ok, so this is what I'm hoping will happen when Blindspot FINALLY comes back. Read lots of great fics about 1x10. Hope you enjoy this too!**

 **Stay with Me**

I stare in utter shock at the image of me on Oscar's phone—a woman who looks like me, even sounds like me, but it isn't me…at least not the me that I remember. Of course, it's not like I can remember much of anything before I woke up in that bag in Times Square.

This can't be real. It has to be a lie, some sort of elaborate deception plotted out by someone else to play with my head. Why would someone in their right mind ever do something like this to themselves?

A flood of questions race through my mind, all vying to be asked first, but I don't even know where to start. The one that continually takes prominence is if I'm really Taylor Shaw…am I the childhood friend that Kurt lost twenty-five years ago? I have to know, deserve to know.

"I'm so sorry to do this to you…but it's for the mission," Oscar softly tells me, his eyes swimming with regret as well as something more that I can't quite decipher nor do I want to. While fragmented images of this man haunt my sleep, I feel nothing for him.

I don't have time to form any sort of question, my eyes widening as the butt of his gun comes down towards my head hard and fast just before everything goes black.

XXX

"Jane, I'm really getting worried about you. Please call me as soon as you get this," I can't help but plead with her once more, fear seeping into my voice as I leave my fourth message.

I can't stop pacing the floor of my apartment, my anxiety building with every passing moment as my mind replays the kiss I shared with her. It's been over two hours and yet I swear I can still feel the softness of her lips against mine, the way her fingers caressed the back of my neck. It had made my head spin, leaving me wanting so much more of her.

I check my phone for the hundredth time, finding that only two minutes has passed since I'd left the last message. Still no response from her yet. I tighten my grip on my phone as I continue to pace back and forth, contemplating going to her safe house to look for her.

I swear under my breath, more than furious that I'd allowed her to leave alone like that. I'd just stood there dumbstruck like a lovesick teenager mooning over his first crush. Now, Jane is only God knows where and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. I don't know where to even begin to look for her.

I can't help but hope that she has stopped by to check on Patterson to see how she's coping with David's death. I pray that's it, but I just can't shake the dread churning in the pit of my stomach that is telling me it's something else entirely.

"You're going to wear a path in the floor if you keep this up."

The sound of Sarah's voice filters through my tormented thoughts, forcing me to stop and look up at her in confusion. "What?"

"Kurt, you've been pacing around the apartment like a caged animal ever since dinner," Sarah points out. "Something is obviously bothering you. Is everything with Jane all right?"

I'm momentarily stunned that she can tell that whatever is upsetting me involves Jane, but my sister is smart and I'm certain the dazed expression on my face when I'd come home with the groceries had given far too much away. Either that or Sawyer had spilled the beans about what he had seen.

"I don't know for sure," I hesitantly admit. "I can't reach her."

"Then why are you stalking around here?" she asks me. "Go find her and talk to her."

My chin falls to my chest in defeat, guilt teeming within me. "You don't understand," I softly confess. "I don't know where she is. She snuck out of her safe house to come see me tonight. I let her leave…let her walk away…alone. I have no idea where she is or if she's even all right."

My phone suddenly beeps at that moment, causing my heart to nearly stop beating altogether. I look down to see that it's a text message sent from Jane's phone. _"Your girlfriend is at the empty warehouse on 16_ _th_ _St. Better come fast."_

I feel all the color drain from my face as I stare at the message on my phone, my muscles momentarily paralyzed with fear. Without a word, I grab my keys from the table and race out the door, leaving Sarah to wonder what is going on.

XXX

I speed through the streets of New York, making calls to Reade and Zapata to meet me along with half the FBI and the paramedics. Helpless to do anything else until I get there, I toss my phone into the cup holder, my fingers clutching the steering wheel in a death-grip. My heart is in his throat as every horrifying thought my mind can possibly conjure assaults me.

This is all my fault. My mind tells me that Jane can take care of herself, but my heart…my protective nature…tells me that I never should have let her walk away from me like that. If I lost her now…

I instantly stop the thought from progressing any further, drawing a shuddering breath in an effort to keep myself from spiraling down into that deep hole that has threatened to drag me away ever since Taylor disappeared. I can't let my mind go there. Not now, not when Jane needs me.

Minutes feel like hours before I finally arrive in front of the abandoned warehouse, not a single person in sight. I slam on the brakes, the tires screeching to a halt. I barely pause long enough to turn the car off before exiting my SUV. Pulling my gun, I cautiously approach, my eyes quickly assessing the situation and scanning the area for any signs of trouble.

My heart is racing, my blood rushing in my ears as I fight the nauseating feeling that I was going to be too late to save her. I have a death grip on my gun as I silently enter the building, coming across two CIA agents lying dead on the ground.

Cold fear slithers up my spine as I work my way deeper inside the dark warehouse only to find Carter slumped against a cement post. Stunned, I kneel down to check for a pulse, but find none. Carter is dead as well, leaving me little hope that I would find Jane alive.

I continue on with bated breath, more than terrified of what had happened to her. Turning the corner, I look to my right, finally spotting her. She is lying so still, tied to a board with rope, a pool of water on the ground beneath her. My stomach instantly drops into my boots at the sight of her like this.

I immediately run towards her, fear clawing at my insides. "Jane," I somehow manage to choke out her name, holstering my gun along the way.

I fall to my knees beside her, frantically checking for a pulse that I fear I'll never find. Her face is so pale, her skin so cold beneath my fingers. Her clothes are soaking wet, a nasty gash on her forehead oozing bright red blood.

"Don't do this to me, Jane," I beg her, sagging in relief when I finally find her pulse. I can't help but momentarily rest my forehead against her cheek, fighting back the well of tears that burn in my throat. "Hang on, Jane. I'm right here."

Fury burns hotly in my core as I work the ropes free. Her wrists are bruised and raw from fighting against the bonds that had held her fast while Carter tortured her to get information from her. I knew that he had wanted her, but I'd had no idea that the CIA director would go to such lengths just to get her, to do this to her in order to get information that she doesn't have.

My eyes momentarily flit to the buckets of water, the drill lying on the board next to her. It makes my insides twist painfully to even think what that monster had been doing to her, what he had been about to do to her if whoever had shot Carter hadn't shown up when they had.

It should have been me. I should've been here for her, to save her from another nightmare she didn't deserve to suffer through.

Hearing footsteps and voices drawing closer, I immediately reach for my gun as I catch a glimpse of Zapata. "Tash!" I yell. "We need medics in here now!"

Tasha stares at me for a brief moment, but doesn't ask any questions. I'm sure the panic in my voice and the pure rage I know is burning in my eyes is more than enough to tell her that Jane is in serious trouble. "Reade! It's Jane! Get the medics in here!" she shouts.

I turn my attention back to Jane, to the one who means more than anything in this world to me. "Stay with me, Jane," I murmur against her ear. "Please, don't leave me."

I force myself to pull away from her long enough to move down to her legs, working the ropes free with trembling hands. I know that I should feel bad that an agent is dead, but I can't seem to find it within myself right now. I have no idea what I would have done to Carter if I had been able to get my hands on him for doing this to her, just how far my anger would have taken me and now we'll never know.

"No!" Jane cries out, trying to kick her legs as I attempt to untangle the rope. "Stop…no!"

"Jane, it's me…it's Kurt," I reassure her. "You're safe now."

"Kurt?"

I quickly finish untying her legs before moving to lean over her, cradling her face in my hands. "Jane," I softly gasp her name, more than relieved that she is awake. "It's all right. I've got you now."

Jane struggles to open her eyes, is barely able to keep her teeth from chattering as she shivers violently. She tries to sit up, but I quickly place my hands on her shoulders, keeping her from moving. "Easy…don't move," I tell her, fighting the urge to kiss her senseless.

"They…he…" she tries to speak between gasping breaths, but is unable to get the words out through the cold and panic that obviously still grips her.

My heart breaks as tears begin to escape from the corners of her eyes. "I'm right here, Jane," I reassure her as I stroke her wet hair before turning to glance out of the room and yelling, "Where are the medics?"

"They're coming now," Tasha informs me from where she stands in the doorway.

"No, I…I'm okay," Jane tries to tell me, but she doesn't sound very convincing. Her voice is hoarse…weak, lacking the strength it usually possesses, but definitely not the stubbornness.

"Jane, you are not okay," I growl more fiercely than I had intended to, my anger with the situation getting the better of me. "You need to lie still until the medics get here."

"Just…give me a minute," she insists, sitting up despite my protests.

I quickly move to sit on the board beside her, my arm instinctively slipping around her waist and pulling her towards me. She immediately leans into my side, holding her head in her hands and trembling from the chill that has no doubt settled into her bones.

Two paramedics enter at that moment, along with Reade and Zapata. One of the medics kneels in front of Jane as the other moves to her side in order to take her blood pressure. She winces as the medic before her flashes his penlight into her eyes.

Her hand automatically moves to find mine, our fingers lacing as she holds onto me for dear life. I swear it's the best thing I've felt tonight since that kiss despite the fact that I'm already beginning to lose feeling in my fingers from her tight hold on me.

I turn my attention to my team, refusing to leave Jane's side for any reason. "Is the building secure?"

"Yah, we've got it locked down," Reade replies, noticing the way that I hover so close to Jane. "Mayfair is on her way."

I only nod my head, not quite sure how to process the myriad of emotions storming through me in that moment. I can see the way Reade and Zapata are watching us, but I don't really give a damn. All that matters to me is Jane.

"Any more dead bodies?"

"No," Reade says with a shake of his head, his gaze never leaving me or Jane. "Just Carter and the two CIA agents."

A somewhat awkward silence befalls us, something that is quickly noticed by Tash. "We'll go wait for Mayfair," Zapata decides, casually tugging on Reade's arm to get him to follow her.

"We need to get you to the emergency room to be evaluated, ma'am," the medic says as he begins to put his equipment into his case.

"No, I'm all right," Jane insists, shaking her head and grimacing.

"Jane, you need to go to the hospital," I state, pulling my hand free from hers as I move to stand to my feet.

Jane swiftly snatches my hand back as terror flashes through her eyes and it causes my chest to constrict. I tighten my grip on her hand as Jane lowers her head, unable to meet my gaze. I silently nod to the medics to give us a moment before I move to kneel in front of her.

"Hey, look at me, Jane," I firmly tell her, watching as she slowly lifts her head to meet my gaze and I can't help but feel her panic. It's palpable, overwhelming. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with you no matter what."

She slowly nods her head, her free hand moving to touch my cheek as she stares at me. The feel of her hand on my face is reminiscent of our first meeting, causing the same jolt of electricity to shoot through me as it did that fateful day.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers.

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for…do you hear me?" I adamantly say to her, needing her to know that she is not to blame for this. All the blame is mine. "Let's get you to the hospital to be checked out, okay?"

She draws a deep breath as if contemplating her answer before finally responding. "Fine," she reluctantly murmurs, "but I'm not staying there."

The corner of my mouth quirks with her comment, giving me a brief glimpse of the fiery Jane I had come to know and care about. I carefully help her up to her feet, moving to her side and wrapping my arm securely around her waist as her legs begin to give out on her.

"I've got you," I murmur, tightening my hold on her and keeping her upright. I turn my attention to the medics. "Go ahead and leave. I'll take her to the ER and make sure she's evaluated."

The paramedics nod in agreement as they exit the room, leaving us alone once more. Her hand moves to grab hold of the front of my shirt, her fingers curling into the material as she struggles to keep the tears at bay, but I see them brimming in her eyes, simmering just beneath the surface and I know it's only a matter of time before they overpower even her.

"Come here," I softly say, pulling her fully into my arms and holding her close.

She buries her face in my chest as her arms slip around my waist. She begins to tremble in my arms; the shock of what has happened to her…what almost happened to her crashing down upon her like a ton of bricks, threatening to sweep her away.

I tighten my hold on her as I press my lips to the crown of her head. I have so many questions that I want to ask her, but I know that now is definitely not the time. She's in shock; traumatized by the torture she'd just been forced to endure. It only causes my anger to swell in my chest.

"I'm so sorry, Jane," I whisper into her hair. "I should have been there for you."

"It's not your fault…it's mine," she softly chokes out.

"This is not your fault," I angrily respond, pulling back to look into her face.

"Is Jane okay?"

The sound of Mayfair's voice reaches our ears, forcing me to relax my hold on her. I put a little space between us, but not much as I keep a firm hold around her waist. I begin to escort her from the room that would no doubt haunt her sleep as well as mine for weeks to come, needing to get her out of here and to the hospital.

I definitely don't feel like the idea of facing Mayfair right now. I have just as many questions as she does if not more, but now is not the time. I just want to be left alone with Jane so I can hold her and kiss her the way that I'm aching to, to feel her safe and alive in my arms once more.

Mayfair comes around the corner as we leave the room; Jane's eyes falling to Carter's body still slumped lifelessly against the post. I feel her trembling increase as she shrinks away from him, pressing herself more fully against my side and further into my hold on her as if trying to escape the man who had been torturing her despite the fact that he can no longer hurt her.

It's all I can do not to beat the man for terrorizing her, but he's already dead and I need to focus on getting Jane out of here right now. "I'm taking Jane to the emergency room to get checked out," I tell Mayfair.

She stares at both of us for a long moment and I can't help but wonder what's going through her mind. "It's going to be okay, Jane," she gently says, her hand coming to rest on Jane's arm.

Jane flinches; her body tensing in response to the contact and it makes me want to shield her even more from all the hurts of the world no matter how small or irrational they are. "I'm sorry…I…I just…it's my fault."

"No," Mayfair adamantly declares, shaking her head. "Whatever happened tonight…whatever led up to you being kidnapped is not your fault. What happened here is all on Carter, no one else is to blame for this."

If she only knew that I'm the one to blame that Jane had been alone when she had been taken, Mayfair wouldn't be saying that. The guilt of it all, knowing what she had been forced to endure, eats away at me even more after seeing what she had endured.

"Thank you," Jane whispers as I keep her pressed against my side.

Close isn't close enough, an ache for more settling into my chest and nearly crushing it. "I'll keep you posted," I tell Mayfair.

Her eyes meet my mine and an understanding of sorts is silently found. She knows without saying it that I'm not going to leave Jane's side for any reason so there is no question of her safety after we're done at the hospital. There are other unspoken questions lingering in her eyes that go far beyond what happened here tonight and touches upon something I'm not ready to discuss with anyone right now.

All that matters now is Jane.

XXX

Entering the safe house, I can't stop rubbing my arms, the chill that runs through me bone deep and refusing to leave no matter what I do. Kurt had the heat running full blast in his SUV for me and still I feel as though I've been submerged beneath the water of an iced over pond.

I hear the door shut and lock behind me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Kurt is there at my side before I can draw my next breath, his strong arms around me and already beginning to draw me into him. He feels like my safe haven...my home and I don't ever want to leave it as I bury myself as deeply into him as I physically can.

His chin settles on top of my head and he tightens his hold on me. I know that he has countless questions about what happened tonight and, to tell the truth; I have just as many if not more. It feels as though my world has just crashed down around me all over again and I have no idea what's up and what's down, what's right and what's wrong, what's black and what's white.

Nothing seems real anymore, nothing is right. The only thing that is genuine to me right now is this man who is holding me so tightly that I can barely breathe and I wouldn't want it any other way. I don't want to draw another breath if he's not here. The beat of his heart beneath my ear is calming me, lulling me with a sense of security and safety and tenderness that I know I don't deserve no matter how much I crave it from him.

I don't know if he's holding me so tightly more for my benefit or his, but I don't care. I need him now more than ever, but I fear when I finally tell him what happened tonight…what I had learned from Oscar, he'll never speak to me again, never look at me in the same way and that will kill me for sure.

My fingers instinctively clutch at his shirt, gripping it forcefully in my hand for fear that he'll leave, that I'll lose him when I tell him and I can't handle that. It's as if he can read my thoughts as he presses his lips to the top of my head.

"I'm not going anywhere, Jane," he softly reassures me as he holds me.

I have no idea how long we stand there like that, my head pounding fiercely and my heart breaking, but I know we can't stay like this forever no matter how badly I want to. I begin to pull away, but he only lets me go so far, his arms still securely around my waist.

I look up into his piercing blue eyes that I adore and I find myself drowning in him all over again. He stares at me for what feels like an eternity though I swear time has come to a standstill as one of his hands comes to rest along my jaw.

"I thought I'd lost you tonight," he confesses, his voice rough with emotion.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, unable to find my voice or the words to make what happened tonight any better for either of us. It was horrifying and nothing can make it better.

"No…no, don't," he murmurs, his lips finding mine in a sweet rush of emotion that opens my eyes to the very real fear that he had been forced to live through tonight as well.

I can't help but melt into his warm kiss, responding to the desperation that feeds our connection at that moment. I need more of him, want him like none other, but, all too soon, he is pulling back to press his forehead against mine.

I find that I'm completely breathless though the kiss wasn't filled with passionate desire but more a need of reassurance and comfort. His breath is warm against my face as he struggles with what he wants to say next, his mouth opening only to abruptly close again.

"Why don't you sit on the couch and rest while I make you something to eat," he suggests instead of saying what he had wanted to say.

"I'm not hungry," I reply though my stomach decides to betray me at that moment.

A slight smirk plays at the corner of his lips with the rumbling sound, the smile that makes my insides warm and my knees weak. "Would you like to try again?" he asks.

"I could probably eat something," I shyly admit.

He chuckles softly as he releases his hold me, taking me by the hand and leading me to the couch. Sitting down, he crouches in front of me, his fingers threading through my hair as he stares at me. "I'll be right back. You rest for a little bit. Do you need more pain medicine? The ER doctor said that you had a pretty good concussion."

I slowly shake my head no as I feel the burn of tears behind my eyes. I hate feeling so lost and terrified, so broken and vulnerable, but I can't quite seem to pull myself together yet and he seems to know it. I want to be brave in front of him, to show him that I can handle all of this, but in reality I can't. I'm barely hanging by a thread, a frazzled and frayed thread that is about to snap at any second.

I swallow hard as he leans forward to kiss me once more before getting up and going to the kitchen. The second he leaves me I feel as if all the air and warmth has been sucked right out of the room, panic seeping into every fiber of my being and holding me hostage.

My hand instinctively reaches out to the arm of the couch, my fingers curling around it and holding onto it for dear life. My chest feels as though there's a cement block resting on top of it, water filling my lungs and the next breath I draw is ragged and shuddering.

My hands and feet feel cold as my heart begins to pound in unison with my head that has been hurting since the moment I opened my eyes to find Kurt there with me. I'm still not sure how he knew where to find me or why Oscar hit me, but they are just more questions to add to the mountain that fills my mind.

" _You did this to yourself…"_

The words spoken in a voice so familiar to me that I can't begin to process it plays over and over again in my mind like a horror movie. It's so surreal that I feel myself begin to shake all over again. I squeeze my eyes closed in an effort to bring myself back under control again, but Kurt is the only one who can really help me. He's my anchor, my rock…grounding me and keeping me from losing my mind when everything is spiraling so far out of control and beyond my reach.

I hear him calling my name, but it sounds so far away like I'm in a very long dark tunnel and he's miles away at the other end. Hands are on my face, warm breath brushing across my cheek, but I can't seem to react. I feel paralyzed by a fear that runs so deep, so powerful that nothing can ever break its hold on me.

"Jane, come back to me," he heatedly demands, the sharpness in his voice filtering through my mind.

With a gasp, my eyes snap open to find him kneeling in front of me again. Panic is etched in his handsome features, fear clouding his eyes as he holds my face in his hands. "Kurt," I whisper his name.

"Are you all right?" he asks.

I numbly nod my head, suddenly realizing that my face is wet, tears are streaming down my cheeks. "I just…panicked…when you left."

"Why don't you come with me to the kitchen?" he offers. "Supper is almost done."

I look at him in bewilderment, confused. "How long were you gone for?"

"About fifteen minutes," he says, stunning me. "I hope soup is okay. It's about all I could find. I'm going to have to take you grocery shopping in the morning. I don't know how you survive on what you have in these cupboards."

I feel the corners of my lips curling a fraction with his teasing. "I guess I've been too busy trying to figure out these tattoos to eat much."

He frowns at me, clearly not happy to hear that. "Am I going to have to move in here to make sure you eat right?"

The thought warms me clear to my toes and I can feel my cheeks flush with his offer, but it doesn't affect me quite as much as the dark smolder in his eyes that are fixed solely on me. I would love nothing more than to wake to his handsome face every morning, falling asleep in his arms every night, but now my hopes for that future have been destroyed.

"You may have to," I murmur, afraid to test my voice.

The sexual tension between us is so thick, the magnetic pull I feel towards him so powerful I can barely breathe again. I know he can feel it too, can see it in his eyes that possess a hunger so fierce that I can't stop the shiver of desire that races up my spine.

"Dinner should be about ready," he huskily says, standing to his feet and offering his hand to me.

I take his strong hand in mine; allowing him to pull me up and I can't decide if I'm more hungry for food or him. But then the reminder of Oscar and the video of myself makes my stomach churn with dread and I know that he'll end up hating me in the end.

I follow him into the kitchen, the smell of food reminding me that I hadn't eaten much since breakfast. With all that had been going on, eating had been the last thing on my mind. All that had mattered was finding who had killed David.

The guilt of his death still hangs heavily on my heart and mind as I take the bowl Kurt offers me. Even as hungry and lightheaded as I am, I don't really want to eat. I just want to crawl into bed, Kurt's arms wrapped around me; his warm body pressed flush against the length of mine and forget about the world outside my door and the trouble and pain that it holds…the fact that I had been the sadistic mastermind behind my current plight.

Who in their right mind would ever do something like this to themselves?

We sit down on the barstools beside one another, my attention on my bowl as I play with my soup with my spoon. I can feel his eyes on me as he begins to eat, boring into me and silently pleading with me to open up to him. I want to more than anything, but I can't even begin to deal with it all myself, understand what all of this means.

Did I use Kurt? Had I singled him out for some vicious reason that I can't fathom? I told myself that I had been the one to plan this; I had been the one to do this to myself. It was my mission and I had targeted Kurt Weller for a reason that I can't even begin to imagine.

Kurt's not the type of man who will take being played and manipulated like this very well—actually not at all. At best, he will remove himself from my case and walk away. At worst, he'll hate me, never talking to me ever again or forgiving me for dragging him into this hell that has become my life.

I feel the sting of tears in my eyes again, blurring my vision and turning my bowl of soup into a watery veil of anguish. The warmth of his hand covers mine and I fight the overwhelming urge to meet his intense gaze that I know is full of such compassion and concern, unable to bring myself to acknowledge the truth of what I am.

I'm a cold, heartless monster. I have betrayed him in the worst way and he will never be mine in friendship or the more that I so strongly desire to share with him.

"Hey, Jane," he softly says to me. "We'll get through this together. I promise you…I'm not going to let them hurt you ever again."

The tears begin to drip from my chin as I stare at my bowl, mingling with my soup and I draw a shuddering breath in an effort to regain some semblance of control even though I feel as though I have been violently stripped of it against my will. But it wasn't against my will. I was the one who had done this to myself.

"Talk to me, Jane…please," he begs me and it's impossible to miss the piercing heartache that fills his voice. "What did he do to you?"

"Everything that has happened…it's my fault," I finally reveal, still unable to meet his gaze.

"Jane…" he begins in that tone that tells me he's about to argue with me.

"No, listen to me," I nearly yell as I suddenly turn to face him, my spoon clattering loudly as it slips from hand and lands on the floor. "I did all of this—the tattoos, the body bag, sending myself to you. It was all me…all my plan."

He stares at me in stunned disbelief for several painfully long moments as he tries to process it all. He slowly shakes his head, anger flooding his eyes as his gaze narrows. "What are you talking about that this was all your plan? What happened at that warehouse, Jane?"

I draw a deep breath in a futile attempt to call myself, but it only manages to increase my panic as memories so fresh and raw coming flying back with far too much clarity and intensity. It's as if Carter is suddenly here in the kitchen with me and I can't escape him though I know he's dead.

Kurt reaches for my hands as my tears return with a fierce vengeance. I want to pull away from him and out of his hold on me, but I can't. He's holding on to me too firmly, the expression on his face determined and I know there is no going back now.

"Carter was pouring water over my face, demanding that I tell him what I know and who I really am," I begin, the terror of the moment causing me to shake uncontrollably. "I kept telling him I didn't know anything. That's when he grabbed a…a drill…"

My voice falters, unable to grasp how much worse things would have gotten had Oscar not shown up when he did. Kurt pulls me from my barstool and into his lap, holding me against him like a child and all I want to do is curl up into a tight ball and disappear.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers into my hair, rubbing my back in an attempt to soothe me.

"That's when I heard gunshots," I continue, trying to get it all out before I change my mind. "Carter went to find out what was going on and that's when he was shot. A man…Oscar…came into the room. It's the same man that I've had fragmented memories of…the one I think I may have been engaged to."

I feel Kurt's entire body grow tense around me, can feel his heart beating harder and I know that he is trying to hold in his anger. "What did he say to you?" he demands to know with a deadly calm that makes the fine hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

"He held up his phone for me…played me a video…of myself," I try to explain, pressing the side of my face harder against his chest. "It was me…before all of this began. My hair was long, but it was me. She…me…said that I had done all of this to myself. It was part of my plan…my mission."

"What mission?" he demands to know, the heat in his voice growing and I know he's doing everything he can to keep from losing his temper.

"I don't know!" I cry as I pull myself away from him and stand to my feet. I begin to pace back and forth in the kitchen, fighting the turmoil simmering and expanding deep within me. "I did all of this to myself—the tattoos, wiping my memory, sending myself to you—it was all my doing and I know no idea why. I don't know why I chose you or what our connection may have been or if I really am Taylor."

I hold my head in my hands as I come to a stop in the middle of the kitchen. My head is hammering to the point I want to vomit, the tears coming so hard and fast I can't catch my breath. I owe this man here with me so much more than I can ever begin to repay and now I've hurt him.

"I'm the one who chose you…who got you into this," I choke out between sobs. "I brought all of this trouble and danger and death into your lives and I have no idea why."

Several grueling moments pass, my legs about to give out on me from the weight of the knowledge of what I have done to the man that I have come to care so much about. The silence is next to unbearable, lasting for an eternity. I wish that he would just yell at me, tell me how he hates me for dragging him into this hell, but instead I feel strong, familiar arms pulling me into him once more and wrapping me up in a cocoon of forgiveness.

I cling to him, unable to stand on my own anymore. I'm more than stunned that he hasn't pushed me away from him; instead his lips are on my face, carefully erasing my tears and trying to calm the near hysteria that has taken control of me with the knowledge of what I've done.

His mouth is warm against my face, consoling and caring and showing me more forgiveness than I deserve. Before I know it, my lips are against his, moving with mutual longing. His hands come to rest on either side of my jaw, keeping me where he wants me and I can't help but fear it's all just a dream.

How can he possibly want to be with me after what I have just told him? No one knows my reasons for doing what I did except for Oscar and still Kurt is kissing me breathless instead of storming out of here like I had fully expected him to.

I finally pull back, trying to catch my breath and searching his face for answers. He's staring at me with a heated look that sets my soul on fire and it's all I can do not to push him to the ground and take him right here.

"Why don't you…you hate me?" I manage to ask, my voice shaky. "Aren't you angry?"

"Yes, a part of me is angry, but I know you, Jane," he tells me with such confidence. "I know who you are and I know that you must have had a very good reason for willingly putting yourself through this hell. You sent yourself to me for a reason and I'm glad that you did. Despite everything that we've been through, you're the best thing that has come into my life in a very long time."

Tears blur my vision again, his words like sweet music to my ears. I can feel my bottom lip begin to tremble again. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. "I have no idea why I did this to myself or why I dragged you into this with me."

"It was obviously necessary if what we've uncovered so far is any indication," he reassures me. "Because of you, we've been able to save thousands of lives so far, Jane. Whatever is going on or caused you to do all of this, it's far bigger than just you and me. That's what I'm trying to focus on right now."

I lean in and kiss him, his words soothing my hurting heart. He kisses me back, slow and tender. My pounding head causes me to stop, forcing me to press my forehead against his collarbone. He threads his fingers through my hair and cradles my head as he pulls back to looks at me.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

I nod my head in an attempt to reassure him, but I know he's still unconvinced. "I'm just so tired."

"Come on," he says. "Let's get you into bed."

XXX

I lead Jane back to her bedroom, my mind racing with so many questions, but now is not the time. Jane has been through enough for today, far more than anyone deserves. While I'm angry about what Jane has told and loathe the idea of being hand-picked like this, I have to follow my instincts as well as my heart that tells me that she had a good reason for doing what she did.

I can't discount the fact that Jane and her tattoos have helped us save so many lives, stopping some very horrendous crimes. Whatever the reason that she chose to involve me in all of this, I can't ignore the reality that she has managed to find her way behind my walls and into my heart. She's the only one who has been able to do that, making me feel alive for the first time since Taylor disappeared.

Despite not knowing for certain who she really is, regardless if she's truly Taylor or not, I feel such an intense connection with this woman as if I have known her whole my life. It's like we're two halves of the same whole and I feel peace for the first time in my life since Taylor was taken.

Leading her to her bed, I sit her down on the edge of it. Kneeling down in front of her, I remove first one boot and then the other. I pull her back up onto her feet, helping her remove her jacket. I do my best to keep my fingers from trembling as I undo the buttons on her jeans, my breathing shallow as I try to fight the urge to finish what I've already started, but I know that I can't. Not tonight.

Her fingers find my hair as I pull her jeans down, lifting one leg and then the other to remove them. I straighten up and meet her heated gaze. I can't help but kiss her once more. Our previous kisses had been filled with assurance and comfort, but this…this is different. This is passionate and hungry and hinting of the incredible pleasure to come.

I break the kiss to help her into bed, pulling the covers over her. As I turn away from her, she immediately grabs hold of my hand, holding onto it for dear-life. "Please…stay with me," she murmurs, her green eyes staring at me with such fear.

"I'm not leaving you, Jane," I reassure her as I lift her hand to my lips to kiss her knuckles.

She smiles softly as she lets go of my hand and I already miss the feel of her. I make my way around to the other side of the bed, taking my boots off before climbing under the covers with her. She instantly turns towards me, wrapping her lithe body fully around me and I can't help but silently curse the fact that I left my jeans and shirt on.

I want to be skin against skin with her, to feel every single inch of her pressed against my body, but the temptation for so much more is too much even for me to handle right now. Too much as happened tonight, too many secrets revealed that is still causing my head to spin.

We need time to sort through everything, the myriad of emotions and feelings as well as the new information that Jane was the one behind this.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her as close as humanly possible. Her head and hand come to rest on my chest and nothing has ever seemed more right to me in my entire life than this does now. I gently rub her back, her breathing almost immediately evening out and I know that she's already asleep.

I stare up at the ceiling as I try to sort through things, but the pull of sleep is becoming more than I can fight. Jane is safe with me where she belongs and I know that is all that matters right now. The rest will eventually be worked out, the tattoos will lead us to more corruption and wrongs that need to be righted, but as long as I have her I know we'll be all right.

 **THE END**


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